Late Night Musings
by Daisy234
Summary: A late night phone call. ClairexBender R/R


It lit up the room silently, a red light blinking from her phone. For a few seconds, she stared at it intently, wondering who would be calling her so late. Slowly, she rolled over lifting the phone up carefully so not to wake the man sleeping next to her. The screen on her phone read 'John' and for a moment she swore her heart stopped beating. Quickly, she hit the answer button. The words, however, couldn't get passed her lips and for a few seconds she lay in bed silently, listening to John's breathing on the other end.

"Claire?" he asked; his voice soft.

"John… is everything okay?" she whispered, hoping her boyfriend wouldn't hear her.

"Yeah, why?"

"John, it's almost three o clock in the morning, I…"

"Oh right, shit were you sleeping? I'm sorry this was dumb as hell anyways go back to bed…"

"Wait!" she stopped him, her voice jumping out and causing her boyfriend to roll over. Shit, please don't wake up, she silently prayed. When she heard his soft snores resume, she began whispering on the phone again, "I wasn't sleeping," she sighed, "I was just…"

"Stop! I don't want to hear about that…"

She rolled her eyes, "I was just laying here, John, god…"

"Oh."

She sat up, quietly slipping out of her bed and tip toeing into the hallway, "John, what's going on?! Are you drunk?"

"I'm not drunk."

"Then why are you calling?"

"I have to be drunk to call you?" he questioned.

"John, what are you doing up so late, first of all? Second of all, we haven't spoken in a while and out of the blue you call me in the wee hours of the morning? And third of all, you sound weird."

"Okay well I guess I'll go in order," he teased, "First of all, I couldn't sleep. Second of all, you're right; we haven't spoken in a while and to be honest I've hated every goddamn second of it. I'm calling you now because I want to talk and I didn't know who else to call. Third of all, I'm sorry that I sound weird. What does that even fucking mean? I really don't have a response for that one…"

She giggled and his heart leapt at the sound, "There's the John I remember."

"See that's just it. I don't want you to 'remember' me, I want you to 'know' me."

"I've been really busy, John."

He sighed, "That's not it, Princess. You were always busy."

"Well, we both live in different cities now. It isn't the same and it isn't so easy to see each other."

"You make time for everyone else who still lives in this shit hole."

"Like who?" she challenged, settling down against the wall of her hallway.

"Allison and Sporto, who you come visit often, and the Dweeb, who you've been extremely chummy with…"

She interrupted him, "I'm sorry, have you been stalking my life?"

"Claire…" he sighed, "I fucking hate this."

"Hate what, John?" she asked, her voice seriously concerned.

"This…everything… are we fighting? Are we friends? I don't even think I know you anymore. It's been months since I've seen you, you've turned me into a sappy piece of shit and I ha- ha- hate, I hate it."

"You've been drinking," she concluded, remembering all too well how he sounded after a few too many beers.

"A little," he admitted.

"Go to bed."

"I want to see you. And I'm not going to bed until you agree, dammit."

"I agree," she sighed.

"You're lying."

"You won't remember either way in the morning."

"I always remember you in the morning."

She stopped, her thoughts creating silence throughout the whole house.

"I'm coming to Chicago. I want to see you."

"John," she sighed, "I'm really busy this week and next week."

"You really think I give a shit?"

"I can't have you over here right now…"

"And why the hell not?"

"John."

"I'm coming to see you," he demanded.

"Rob is staying with me this week."

"An hour. That's all, Claire, one hour of your time.

"John, I'm tired. And quite frankly, I'm not sure what the purpose of this weird phone call is."

"I want to fucking see you. I want to fucking talk to you. I've been…I've been really messed up about all this, Claire."

She sighed, "Take an advil and go to sleep, John. Good night, hope you're not too hungover tomorrow."

Before he could answer, she clicked the red 'End' button and pushed her phone away from her. As she sat in the hallway and let the tears roll freely off of her face, she let herself come to terms with the fact that she was pretty messed up about all this too.


End file.
